On My Way Home
We are meaning making beings!
One of the most important tasks of our ‘self’, the ‘psychological self’, is to create and make meaning from the ongoing flow of data that appears in perception through the five physical senses and the mental sense of thinking. Not to find or make meaning can cause great confusion and distress.
From what someone says, from what words are written, from what senses are sensed, we formulate and forge meaning so as to find our way through life.
Sometimes the meaning may be hidden, obscured or oblique. Sometimes a double meaning is found or even none at all. Sometimes we can make no sense of things and think it’s all just non-sense!
Sometimes the meaning needs to be arrived at through contemplation, meditation, and through the percolation and precipitation of the passage of time.
May the offering of my piece of poetry find meaning for you; arrived at – at this time or another.
Kind Regards – John
ON MY WAY HOME
On my way home, I found myself;
Down at the corner of the roundabout;
Waiting for a message,
That would never be sent.
And being there, I thought I might hear,
That sound that cannot be heard,
Or find that feeling,
Which cannot be felt!
Yet standing awhile,
And knowing I was all alone;
I happened to meet a man who was never there;
Who silently spoke about being no-w-here and no one!
And shouting at me;
All at once, I suddenly sat-up;
And all the while awoke from that deep sleep;
The cause of so much stress, mental upset and suffering.
Realising the purposed point of this,
I saw that there was no meaning meant at all;
That life can be so willfully wasted,
Seeking and searching for that which never was and never will be.
Finding a feeling in this of great joy;
Left me in the depth of a sacred sadness.
Isolated and alone,
I felt crushed and crowded.
So of this then; what to next;
Of roundabouts and whereabouts for ever?
Seemingly, always already, forever now;
Always ever and forever; never not this!